The lobby wasn’t hiding any great
evidence that would help us, but the dining room unveiled a lot of discoveries.
First of all, the wreck that the
place was in put the trashed rooms to shame. Thousands of shattered plates,
cups, bowls and wine-glasses had transformed the simple walk across the floor
into a trek through fields of splintered glass and china that would probably
kill anyone who wasn’t wearing shoes. Table cloths and curtains were torn
apart, polished wooden floorboards had been ripped clean off of the ground and
wallpaper hung in strips were it had been ripped, and blood splattered the
remaining tatters of the wallpaper left intact.
“We’d better check out the kitchens.”
Sandy said grimly, taking charge.
Devin didn’t complain or resist. I think he was glad of a break from
leadership. It’s always easier to be told what to do.
The kitchen had once been a huge,
polished, professional stainless-steel and gleaming-white-walled room. Now it
was overrun with strange glittering black beetles, with metallic silver-white-lilac
backs that looked to be jewel-encrusted. The sinks, like the en suite of the
previous room, were full of blood and vomit. More blood trailed down the wall
as it dribbled through cracks near the ceiling, as if it was welling from a
giant wound. The stench of vomit mixed with the sickly copper-like scent of
blood was truly disgusting.
“They were here.”
Devin informed us, spotting
electric-blue and white-green handprints and footprints on the floor and walls.
Yet more i-phone photos were taken.
“We should look in the other room.
There’s blood seeping through the walls, the zombies might be there.”
“Yeah, let’s go, these beetle are
freaking the hell out of me.”
I agreed. Sandy followed.